Unfinished 40k (and fantasy) works and chapters
by MA7
Summary: A selection of old story files that never made it to the publishing stage. I am currently on standby to get called into work early if needed and am filling in this uncertain length of time posting some old files. Some are stories that went nowhere and others are chapters that got got scrapped and replaced by different chapters. Enjoy my file scrapheap :)
1. Chapter 1

Hermione's Paradise

On the beach of one of the innumerable sandy coral atolls of the planet Hermione's Paradise, a cluster of women and children slept on the soft dry sand. It was night time on this particular tropical island and the perpetually warm weather was dry enough tonight to permit sleeping out in the open.

The island in question was named Jana and was a few kilometres in diameter. Jana was composed completely out of white coral sands and was very low and flat. It had various plants growing on the interior of the island beyond the beach, especially coconut trees.

Here in the tropics it rained often but never for long, unless there was a tropical storm during the storm season, and at times like now when the storm season was over for another year the weather was absolutely perfect. It rained on average for 5 minutes per day, usually in the morning, enough to keep all the vegetation luxurious but not enough to ruin your day.

Jana was a paradise that produced food naturally all year round, you didn't even need to farm for it. Coconuts, fruits, edible shoots, roots, edible insects, seafood, the island just freely gave and gave. The daily rain gave abundant fresh water and life was good.

The night rolled on as the peaceful sleepers slept under the stars, there was no other light, not even the light of a fire, the sleepers did not need fire to keep warm at night and they lacked the technology to generate light any other way. These humans were feral, Stone Age in their technology levels.

Off on the distant horizon the predawn light crept into the sky, illuminating an endless ocean as far as the eye could see. Islands on Hermione's Paradise were plentiful but widely spaced, usually just over the horizon from each other's line of sight.

The island of Jana became more visible as the light increased, revealing the coral reef that ringed it. This reef kept the powerful surf at bay, protecting the beach from the waves during storms but also trapping the people from getting their primitive boats out past the reef to escape the island.

As the sun finally rose the sleepers stirred on the beach. These few hundred women and their children were the only people on the entire island. The island of Jana was notable for having no men at all, not even adolescent boys. None of the children over the age of 5 were male. The children younger than 5 had an even mix of genders, but then suddenly the boys all disappeared once you inspected the 6 year old children.

The women were excited today as they woke their children, for they knew that today was the day that the men came for the annual breeding visit.

The breeding visit was always a time of great celebration for the women. For a few short weeks they would have access to men, and only during this time was it possible for them to get pregnant. Without the breeding visits they would go extinct, it alone could create new life for the tribe of women.

The women suckled their new babies from the breeding visit 12 months ago and got their 5 year old sons ready to go away to join the men on their strange metal ships. The boys were going to join something called "the Imperial Guard" as something called "child soldiers" to be used for something called "slave labor". The women didn't know what any of these things meant but it sounded very exciting and they were sure that the boys would have a wonderful time.

The tribe excitedly ate and drank as the boys cried fearfully at the thought of leaving their mothers, soon the men would arrive.

One of the younger women who was climbed halfway up a coconut tree suddenly shouted out excitedly, pointing at the distant horizon. She had just caught sight of a ship on the horizon, a ship heading straight for the island of Jana.

***...

Off in the distance the grey blue camouflage shape of a metal navy frigate took shape. The ship was the Hermione's Paradise Planetary Defence Force ocean frigate "Orange Flamingo", and it's crew was eager to get their dicks wet yet again.

The Orange Flamingo and it's crew all came from "Governor Island", the only technologically advanced settlement on the entire Stone Age feral world of Hermione's Paradise.

Governor Island was the largest non-volcanic island on the planet, technically a small chain of sandy coral atolls and reefs that had been artificially covered with sand dredged up off the sea floor to join up with each other into a line 100 kilometres long and 1 kilometre wide on average (10 kilometres wide at the widest point). It contained a city populated entirely by the relatives of the Imperial Governor and contained the only space port on the planet. The island was mostly given over to growing food such as coconuts, and had less than a million people living on it.

The planet had a thriving slave trading industry, exporting every male on the planet who wasn't a citizen of Governor Island. The Imperial Guard in particular had a never ending demand for slaves for its armies, as did the Imperial Navy and adeptus mechanicus.

The Orange Flamingo had been manufactured in the shipyard of Governor Island from imported metal from a mining world, and was basically of similar technology to late 20th century earth navy frigates. It ran on locally produced biofuels made from specially grown ocean algae and was only as complicated as it needed to be for its fairly limited role in the local navy. The ocean navy had dedicated high tech submarines, cruisers and aircraft carriers that would be used if there was an actual invasion from outside forces, the Orange Flamingo was at best a first response scouting vessel.

The crew of the Orange Flamingo had a charmed existence. They pretty much just sailed from island to island getting local women pregnant and collecting the boys for the slave trade. The women were blissfully naïve about the fate of these boys and stupidly trusted the men and handed over their sons. This strategy had been happening for centuries now and it was a stroke of genius, giving not only endless sex and slaves, but also ensuring that the tribes had no men who could put up a fight during occasional disputes with the tribes.

Centuries of breeding with only the men of Governor Island had removed all trace of the original ethnic groups of the island tribes, making them the same race as the navy men and therefore much more attractive to them. The original blood was diluted so completely that the entire planet now had but one single ethnic group.

The crew rejoiced as the island came into view, knowing that they would soon be having sex with an entire tribe of women. It had been a few days since they last visited an island for sex and they were all starting to get horny. They had probably the best job in the entire Imperium of Man, the job of having sex with as many women as humanly possible.

The Orange Flamingo had a crew of 200 men, but the average island usually contained at least twice this many women. The local life expectancy was terrible with the lack of modern medicine, meaning that the women died young so were almost all still young enough to be pretty. The men didn't care less about the wellbeing of the local women, seeing them as nothing more than sex objects and slave factories.


	2. Chapter 2

The Antony Cartel.

*book 7 of the women of the Night Lords series*

Chapter 1F

The night outside was pitch black, not so much as a single star shining through the perpetual black dust storms on the dark planes of the planet Tazakeo Prime. Dark, so completely and utterly dark. It was a darkness beyond the mere absence of light, a darkness that actively swallowed up light. Tazakeo Prime was a highly volcanic planet with a distinctive black volcanic ash dust and howling winds that kicked the dust up so thickly that visibility was reduced to mere meters even with a flashlight.

The dark planes were a world of everlasting night, a place where light simply could not reach. And yet despite this, the dry winds that tore at the dusty ashy surface were hot winds, almost uncomfortably hot. A thick volcanic atmosphere of greenhouse gases kept the dark place toasty warm.

In this ash choked hell a heavily armed gang of drug dealers hid fearfully in a huge modular shelter carefully hidden under the ash. This planet was the perfect place to hide if you didn't want to be found, and the Fianco mafia had good reason to want to hide after a promised drug shipment was lost to Ork pirates.

Fianco mafia boss Big Sylvester Tribbiani comforted his crying little daughter as best as he could, trying to reassure her that the cartel would never find them here. The entire Fianco mafia and their women and children were all desperately hiding in this place until the heat died down. They had run up a debt that they simply couldn't pay to one of the most dangerous criminal cartels in the eastern edge of the Segmentum Solar and to put it mildly they were absolutely fucked if they couldn't hide.

By all normal standards mafia boss Big Sylvester was a fearsome burly man, a man that other men feared to face, but these were not normal circumstances. The Fianco mafia members were all clad in ballistic fibre armoured vests and packing serious firepower with autoguns and lasguns aplenty, yet these hardened criminals were trembling with terror, scared out of their minds.

"Papa, I'm scared! What if they find us here?" his tiny daughter Lisa asked shaking with terror.

"Hush little Lisa, no one can find us here. We are hiding in a buried hideout in the middle of an endless plane of black ash. Even space ship sensors cannot detect us through the ash storms, we are invisible, we have no radio emissions and even if we did the dust clouds would block them. All our tracks and footprints on the surface have long since been covered up by the billowing ash clouds and all sounds we make are lost in the screaming wind. A man could pass within 5 meters of us out there and he still wouldn't see us. We are safe little one," Big Sylvester told his little girl.

He only finished saying this when the sound of wet thumping noises came from the outside entrance and the assembled mafia turned their heads to see a dozen severed heads bouncing into the room. Big Sylvester looked at the heads in horror, recognising them as belonging to every one of the hidden sentries the Fianco mafia had stationed outside!

Big Sylvester looked at the doorway in dread, but nothing came through into the underground shelter. The heads had simply been thrown in through the door, the thrower having no desire to enter the door themselves.

The Fianco mafia literally shat themselves with terror but still nothing came in through the door. For minutes no one dared to look away from the door, weapons held at the ready. The minutes stretched on, first into tens of minutes and then into hours, but still nothing came in through that door.

Two days later Big Sylvester was at the very edge of madness, too afraid to sleep and freaked out by the complete lack of attack since the heads being thrown in through the door. No one dared to go anywhere near that door, so hideously afraid, but absolutely nothing happened.

By the 3rd day Big Sylvester was a gibbering shell of a man, broken by these horrible terror tactics. The enemy was clearly right outside, ready to kill them all, but was simply toying with them before killing them.

On the 4th day one of the men snapped and went out the door. 10 seconds later his severed head was thrown back inside through the door!

For days more it went on, driving several people insane with terror and they had finally had enough.

"Just come inside already!" Big Sylvester finally shouted at the door.

"We have been inside all week," said a blood chilling voice behind him.

Big Sylvester shot around to see a 9 foot tall Night Lord chaos space marine holding his trembling daughter Lisa by the neck, a blood stained knife at her throat.

"P-please Augusta, please don't hurt my daughter," Big Sylvester pleaded, close to hysterical with terror now.

"You owe my father a lot of money "Big" Sylvester, a LOT of money," the giant Night Lord said in a dangerous tone.

"I will pay! I will pay it all!" Big Sylvester pleaded.

"Where is our money? We want it right now," the Night Lord demanded.

"I don't have it with me, but I can get it to your father soon! Please just don't hurt my little girl!" Big Sylvester pleaded.

The giant Night Lord paused, considering this offer. After a moment he said, "you will pay us back 3 times what you owe. I will keep your little "Lisa" with me until you pay back every single credit owed. Don't take too long or I will start chopping off fingers."

Big Sylvester looked into the eyes of his terrified little girl and desperately agreed. The room then suddenly went pitch dark for about 30 seconds before the lights came back on, and when they returned the Night Lord and Lisa were gone.

***...

Up in the Night Lord's ship in orbit of Tazakeo Prime, the Antony Cartel Matriarch, Chaos Champion of Slaanesh Octavia Antony swung energetically from a strip tease pole as she danced for the pleasure of her husband, Antony Cartel Patriarch Luke Antony.

Luke Antony had formerly been Luke Sevenson, but out of love for his wife he had taken her last name. The pair had originally been part of a different Night Lords crime cartel called the Sevenson Cartel, but when their son Augusta almost murdered the girlfriend of the boss of the Sevenson Cartel, they had had to flee for the sake of their son's safety. Luke was a mighty Night Lords Chaos Terminator and ruled the Antony Cartel as chaos lord.

Luke clapped his hands as his Slaaneshi champion wife erotically entwined her highly sensual naked body all over the stripper pole. His wife was sexy and provocative in the extreme, with long curly brown hair, flawless pale white skin, a perfect body and truly gigantic breasts. In her right armpit was a bright pink mark of Slaanesh sealing her as a chaos champion of Slaanesh and her heavily made over face was so beautiful that it was almost shocking. The woman constantly projected a passive psychic aura of extreme lust, an aura that stirred the loins and roused the sexual passions of everyone around her.

The pair had been married for many decades now and were close to their 50 year anniversary, but Octavia had not aged a day past her early twenties thanks to ruthless use of highly expensive rejuvenation drugs. She had formerly had a series of slave brands running along the front of her right shoulder but had had cosmetic surgery to remove this imperfection.

Luke sat in the dark of the viewing area, watching mesmerised as Octavia gyrated and twisted for his viewing pleasure. The pole was illuminated by a pale pink light, and the light danced off the glitter which covered her contorted body as it flexed and bent with astonishing flexibility. Her vagina glistened with wetness and she beckoned for her husband to come closer.

Luke was just about to get up when his son Augusta kicked the door open and swaggered into the dark striptease lounge. Augusta ignored the sight of his naked mother and instead got himself a drink from the bar and joined his father to watch the show.

As well as Octavia, a number of other women were dancing naked on the poles, for the viewing pleasure of an audience. Like many criminal cartels, the Antony Cartel was heavily invested in the sex industry and the Antony Cartel Night Lords generally hung out in strip clubs and brothels.

"You took your sweet time, do you have his head for my wall?" Luke asked his son.

"He says he will pay us 3 times what he owes, I took his kid as collateral," Augusta explained.

Luke grunted in response and returned his attention to his wife, the first woman he had ever loved. The last 50 years had been hard, but they had been able to survive the retribution from the Sevenson Cartel and establish a viable company of Night Lords chaos space marines from gene seeds stolen from the Sevenson Cartel.

All around the strip club stood Night Lords of the Antony Cartel, all of them the children of either Luke, Augusta or of one of the few other people who had been loyal enough to accompany them in the early days such as the ridiculously named Khorne Berserker "Lord BicepFist".

The warband was a motley bunch of battle scarred veterans of many wars, all of them Night Lords of one sort or another, with a good balance of tactical chaos marines, hard hitting elites and fast moving chaos raptors. They relied heavily on stealth and terror tactics, especially utilising psykers on the field of battle to let them walk unseen right inside the enemy bases undetected.

The Sevenson Cartel had been pursuing them for 50 years now, annoyed deeply about the near murder of Mandy Sevenson by Augusta. Mandy was a sadist who had almost killed Augusta's wife Liling Antony, flogging Liling almost to death just for fun. Augusta had retaliated by exploding both of Mandy's legs with his bolt pistol, blasting them down to ragged stumps and outraging Mandy's lover the Chaos Sorceress Lord "Egg" Sevenson.

Egg's wrath had been terrible and they had been lucky to escape without Augusta being killed.

They were now all cut off from the fabulous wealth of the Sevenson Cartel and were forced to survive by organised crime, nomadically travelling from sector to sector eking out a living by shocking acts of crime and violence. Sex, drugs, loan sharking, money laundering, gun running, smuggling, human trafficking. If it made money then the Antony Cartel was interested.


	3. Chapter 3

Return of Mistress Talon.

Chapter 1(RMT)

Chaos Undivided Dominatrix, Mistress Talon Lash Lee, was dead, had been for over a decade in fact.

In life she had been a professional dominatrix, the wife of the submissive lesbian champion of Slaanesh Wendy Sevenson, and the owner of Octavia the tickle slave. In life she had had everything, but now she was dead.

At present her soul was exploring a Slaaneshi hell, joyfully torturing masochistic daemonettes with a ferocious whip.

"Take it you submissive whores!" Talon snarled sadistically.

The daemonettes moaned orgasmically in pain, and Talon flogged them all the harder.

The hell that Talon was in was a massive sex dungeon full of daemonettes and souls like Talon. Normally the souls like Talon would be the ones being tortured here, but the daemonettes far preferred


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 2(TE)

Regina sighed unhappily as she paid the legal price for legally obtained metal from the rust mines of house Orlock. It cost more than twice as much as the illegally obtained metal had cost!

The merchant happily accepted the payment and Regina's workers unloaded all the rust ore from the merchant's trucks.

Regina was really annoyed.

The price of good labor was going up by the day as more and more able bodied women joined the imperial navy as a first choice or the imperial guard as a second choice. The factories and other major employers on Necromunda simply couldn't match the high wages the imperial military paid.

Regina was now on an almost equal cost footing with the multitudes of other house Escher tycoons who operated legally all the time, her only advantage was in getting most of her electricity for free. To remain competitive she was forced to live a somewhat less extravagant lifestyle.

Sally Ruth'sgal the 10 thousand credit per day concubine had unfortunately had to go, but without this drain on her finances Regina was holding a small but steady profit each day.

Regina was terribly horny without Sally and could not get away with taking sexual advantage of the few workers in the factory who were actually attractive enough for her high standards. Regina's vibrator was getting a lot of use lately to get her through this pussy drought.

The factory now had a lot more workers, and the workers were paid a lot more to keep the good ones from changing jobs. Almost all of them were too old to enlist, and those who were young had some sort of medical problems that kept them from enlisting. Almost an entire generation of young women were gone.

Necromunda was of course too big and too heavily populated for the military to enlist all of the young people, not even close in fact. Most of the hives on Necromunda hadn't even had recruitment centres and even hive Primus itself was far too big for all the healthy young ones to even reach the enlistment centres. But Regina's factory was right next door to the damn recruitment centre in this part of Escher territory and enough Escher young women had left to massively effect unemployment levels.

Rent was going down too as landlords competed for the fewer remaining tenants and Regina had had to almost halve the rent on her properties just to keep tenants in the apartments paying for her free power!

It was so horrible! The living conditions of the poor were going up, and it was making them much harder to exploit! Regina missed the good old days when she lorded it over the poor like a queen.

Regina sighed and returned to her office. She sat down and got some paperwork done on the cogitator, sighing as she handled her much less profitable business empire.

A few hours later, to Regina's considerable surprise a space marine in yellow armour was shown into her office.

Regina gaped at the yellow armoured giant in astonishment. She couldn't see his face because of his helmet but he wore the armour of an imperial fists space marine.

The space marine removed his helmet to reveal a dark skinned face, clearly of mixed heritage Necromundan under hive origin by the looks of him.

"I am sergeant John Jericho of the Imperial Fist chapter, 7th company, 9th squad." The space marine introduced himself in a Necromundan under hive accent.

"Um, well um, I, I'm, I'm Miss Regina Dior," Regina stammered in shock.

"Yes I know who you are. The Imperial Fists chapter is very impressed with how you so cheaply sell weapons and ammunition to the Emperor's servants. The Imperium needs more business people like you who do their duty to keep costs low as possible for the Emperor's armies." Sergeant John Jericho said approvingly.

"Th, thank you," Regina stammered fearfully.

"Do not fear friend, I will not hurt you. I come here to offer you a business contract to provide ammunition for the Imperial Fists chapter. With the recent drains put on the forge worlds, the Imperial Fists chapter wishes to do our part to reduce some of the strain by purchasing some of our ammunition privately from deserving individuals such as yourself in the private sector." The space marine said and continued.

"Your factory already produces fine heavy bolter ammunition for the Imperial Guard at a very generous price. The Imperial Fists alas also uses a substantial amount of heavy bolter ammunition on a daily basis. I have been sent to place an order for 10 million heavy bolter rounds at your usual prices, we humbly request the order to be delivered to our recruiting stronghold in the under hive by no later than a week from today."

Regina smiled a huge smile and agreed. This was exactly the break she had been needing.

Regina counted her profits happily a week later after the shipment of 10 million heavy bolter rounds had been delivered to the Imperial Fists stronghold.

Heavy bolter ammunition took a lot of energy to manufacture but not much metal compared with other ammunition types of similar size. For most people it was prohibitively expensive to manufacture because of the enormous energy costs to make each round, but Regina could make it for half the price and still make a large profit because she wasn't paying for the majority of the power.

Tens of thousands of tenants were unwittingly footing the bill for most of this electricity, thinking that old faulty wiring was to blame for their elevated weekly power bills.

Regina smiled greedily as the Imperial Fists placed another order for the same this time next week. Regina was frankly astonished that a chapter of space marines could burn through 10 million heavy bolter rounds per week, but apparently this wasn't even the full amount they used each week!

Regina now stood to make 10 million credits profit every single week just from the space marines alone and she had celebrated by rehiring Sally Ruth'sgal as her personal concubine once more.

Sally's kisses felt so wonderful on her pussy as she counted her money on the cogitator screen, Regina really felt like she deserved this immense good fortune.

Regina was just cumming hard from Sally giving her oral when Space Marine Sergeant John Jericho entered the room unannounced!

Regina screamed and covered herself frantically.

"My apologies, I did not realise that you had romantic company. I understand that you women of House Escher are this way inclined due to your unique gender imbalance, and I know that the Ecclesiarchy has granted the women of House Escher with a special lifting of the usual prohibition against homosexuality. Do not be afraid," Sergeant John Jericho said awkwardly.

"It, it is ok. Just wasn't expecting you," Regina stammered in embarrassment.

"I came to express the chapter's appreciation in person and to inform you that you 3 plasma generators are being delivered to your factory as a gift of thanks. The chapter of course realises that you must have lost a lot of money in power bills to make our ammunition so cheaply, in fact you are certainly losing money on every round you sell at your prices, so to ease your burdens we are giving you 3 plasma generators to help mitigate the enormous energy costs you have shouldered so dutifully." The Space Marine explained admiringly.

Regina smiled, this day just keeps getting better!

The new plasma generators were absolutely beautiful. Bright yellow paint jobs gleaming, blue plasma shining, they together produced almost a megawatt of power. Each had come with enough fuel to last a few months and now gave Regina the reasonable excuse she needed to stop paying for any power bills whatsoever.

In effect Regina's profits per heavy bolter round were now doubled and she now stood to make 20 million credits profit per week from the heavy bolter rounds alone, on top of added profits from all other goods.

The staff costs were still going up slightly but only by a few thousand extra total credits lost per day collectively, which was mere pocket change for Regina at the moment.

The price of metal was remaining stable from the house Orlock mines which was something at least, even though it was slightly expensive.

Regina smiled, the rich keep getting richer.

Regina sighed in relief when the imperial military recruiting centre packed up a few weeks later and moved to another hive city far away to continue the search for more fit young adults to enlist. A bunch of yummy teenage girls were just about to reach enlisting age and would now miss out and be forced to work in Regina's factory.

That recruiting office had done a lot of terrible damage to the local poverty levels, far too many people had had far too many opportunities. It would take a while for the unemployment rate to get nicely high again.

Regina looked at her ugly workers hard at work on the production line. Regina relished the thought of being able to fire them and replace them with sexy teenage girls for half the price. This time Regina would opt for a mixed workforce, half old and half young to prevent a repeat of the sudden loss of workers during the enlistment.

Regina's factory had now refocused most of it's production on ammunition instead of weapons as the price of metal reduced the profit margins for weaponry. She still made weapons, just was not taking as many contracts in favour of the much more favourable ammunition contracts.

The chemical pollution of Necromunda was abundant and absolutely free, it took only a bit of transport to get the effluent of other industries to the factory. With a lot of energy this chemical waste could be turned into more useful chemicals, such as the explosive and propellant components of ammunition.

Regina had now refitted the factory with a few extra floors and had filled these new floors with both chemical plants and extra ammunition production lines. Regina was currently favouring types of ammunition with very little metal, especially carbon fibre polymer varieties of krak missiles that used a design with hardly any metal at all. The imperial guard was dubious about these krak missiles but Regina sold them so cheaply that the departmento munitorum had reluctantly agreed to purchase them.

Heavy bolter ammunition however was now the chief product Regina produced. It consisted of a synthetic diamond tip, a depleted uranium core, a bit of casing, a delayed chemical fuse and a shitload of explosives and chemical propellants.

Regina's factory dome contained hundreds of thousands of compact synthetic diamond presses that worked around the clock making diamond tips in batches of ten at a time. It took less than 50 hours and a huge amount of electricity to get a single diamond in each press, but these diamonds were specifically designed to split into ten perfectly shaped pieces when hit the right way. The presses were expensive to buy, but were an excellent long term investment and Regina was paying them off in instalments.

The explosives, fuses and propellants were all mass produced in her chemical plants from local pollution, requiring a lot of electricity which was free for Regina and not too much manpower to produce. It cost Regina almost nothing to make and was the most profitable part of the ammunition for her.

The casing was a relatively tiny amount of metal and not that expensive without the power costs involved, so also cost very little.

The only thing that really cost Regina actual money, not counting the instalments on the diamond pressed, was the depleted uranium cores. The imperial forces simply would not accept Regina cutting these cores with cheaper metals so Regina was forced to buy the pure stuff.

Necromunda had long ago run out of economically viable uranium, but still had a lot of economically expensive trace uranium in the industrial ash and other pollution that covered the planet. Alternatively the depleted uranium could come from off world. Either way it was expensive.

Regina liked to use whichever one was cheapest at a given moment. For the amounts of uranium she needed, only importing from off world gave the sheer quantities needed for practical purposes. Regina had dealings with some black market smugglers who snuck a bit in without paying tariffs, but mostly she got her depleted uranium from an interstellar company called Slaasloth.

Slaasloth was a vulture like corporate entity that followed in the wake of Imperial wars to buy battle field salvage from the starving local children and widows for a pittance. These desperate civilians collected the used depleted uranium cores from heavy bolter bullet holes and bodies, dug up unexploded land mines, that sort of thing and sold it to Slaasloth in exchange for a tiny amount of basic food and water supplies to keep them alive.

The unethical practices of Slaasloth made their prices very reasonable and let Regina reuse old bullet cores often without even having to recast them.

Regina had purchased a lot of new slum buildings and rewired the power boxes to get even more free power (on top of rent). Regina had also bought more fuel for the plasma generators to keep them running at full power and on paper she was also buying power from a nonexistent startup power company to try to explain how she was powering her factory without buying any power from the utility company.

In reality, many tens of thousands of poor house Escher women (many of them elderly) were unwittingly footing the bill for 90 percent of Regina's power consumption, with the remaining 10 percent coming from the plasma generators she had been given for free.

Labor costs would start going down over the coming months as the next generation entered the job market and crime would increase once more as the newly unemployed got desperate. The thefts would begin again and Regina's metal supply would get a lot cheaper.


	5. Chapter 5

She who thirsts

Chapter 1(SWT)

Nanobots swarmed around inside the obsidian tank of fluid, driven by dark purpose. The fluid bubbled with heat from the huge energy being consumed, and counter-wave cooling lasers fired, chilling the fluid cool. In the tank a greyish lump of brain matter took shape, getting bigger and bigger, with eye watering speed.

With a sudden flash of consciousness, the female adult eldar brain was alive and sentient. Memories filled it, not it's own but a perfect copy of the original Eldar Farseer whose brain had been so flawlessly scanned many years ago. She was ALIVE! She had thoughts, she had a SOUL!

She was alive for less than a full second before the same forces that created her then blended her brain down to it's component atoms! Her new born soul was sent screaming into the warp! Slaanesh was waiting for her, and swallowed her soul in a single gulp!

Without even a pause the nanobots repeated the ten second process of creation all over again, continually creating and then sacrificing an identical copy of the brain of the same Eldar Farseer. The tank of fluid was not alone, thousands of identical tanks filled the interior of this sinister Necron satellite.

The satellite was extremely single minded in its construction, nothing more than a massive screen of solar panels, a heat radiating system, and this bizarre brain creating facility. The satellite floated in perfect formation beside identical satellites, BILLIONS of them in fact.

Blazing with terrible blue light beneath them was the star known as Kaloolon, a type B star 5 times the mass of Earth's Sun. The star was young and violent, and so massive that it had only a few million years of life left in it, but whilst it lasted it was the ULTIMATE energy source.

In orbit around Kaloolon a truly massive Dyson Swarm of these satellites was taking shape. The builder scarabs and nanobots were building with breakneck speed, but the star was simply so large that it would take a long time before the swarm covered even 1 percent of it's total output.

It did not matter, the Necrons were immortal, time was on their side.

Even at less than 1 percent complete, the "Star Soul Engine" was causing absolute havoc in the warp for light years around. Every ten seconds TRILLIONS of extremely psychic eldar souls were being deliberately fed to Slaanesh, strengthening the great enemy of the hated Eldar.

60 million years ago the hated Eldar had defeated the Necrons, and forced them into a 60 million year slumber to outlast them through raw passage of time. And 60 MILLION YEARS later, the hated Eldar STILL weren't dead!

The Necrons were sick of waiting. At least, THESE Necrons were sick of waiting. The Necrons were not a unified race, and each group had their own ideas about how to do things. Some were honourable and ethical beings, but the Necrons building this Star Soul Engine were predominantly just BITTER.

These Necrons were delighted to learn about what Slaanesh was doing to the Eldar, and as sworn enemies of the Eldar, these Necrons were giving Slaanesh a much needed boost to wipe out the Eldar race all the faster.

***...

Farseer Chergohne of the Biel-Tan craft world screamed in horror as she heard the psychic screams of trillions of identical copies of herself!


	6. Chapter 6

The Ogryns of Wsuioo

Chapter 1(OW)

Let's not beat around the bush, Wsuioo is a nasty place. It's the sort of place that makes George Orwell's 1984 seem like a luxury resort. It's a place that one reviewer on ao3 once described as "so edgy I could cut myself with it". Before I get any more geniuses saying "oh this is so grimderp", let me say that I KNOW that it's grimdark in the extreme. That is in fact the WHOLE POINT of Wsuioo, it is the Imperium of Man at it's worst, a place so grimly dark that no hope exists.

It's so grim that the character "MA7" in "Women of the Night Lords" actually had a BETTER life after being kidnapped from the planet by the Night Lords as a mutilated slave! Yep, it's THAT grimdark.

I created Wsuioo as a fictional setting over a year ago, deliberately with the express motivation of creating something so grimdark that it exceeded even the hunger games times 1984 times 40k as a truly horrible setting. (In case you are wondering, from memory I got the name from a car number plate I randomly saw when thinking of a name whilst driving, just changed it a bit). It has a fleshed out concept note on my ao3 profile, but the review it got was so negative that I deliberately waited a year before daring to return to the setting in my works.

In "the farmer's mail order bride" I again dared to revisit Wsuioo in reference only, and the mere description of the place in passing was enough to generate strong reactions. It is apparently so nasty that even as a background plot device it is shocking to people.

Well, a part of me wants to bury the nightmare place back in it's coffin, but another part of me actually wants to actually write a story that is SET on Wsuioo. I don't want to be afraid of the reviews I will get, I just want to see how this goes.

If you don't like grimDERP, or "so edgy that I could cut myself with it", then please just stop reading, as you are not going to like this. If you leave those sort of whiny reviews after reading this, then people on the internet will judge you.

Ok here goes.

***...

Down among the rolling green anoxic fields of genetically engineered crops and gently spinning wind turbines, under the cheerfully shining orange-yellow local sun, an atomic bomb resistant grey concrete building sat squatly on the ground. The massive low building was roughly rectangular in shape, covered all over in razor wire and gun turrets, and had no windows of any kind.

A few hundred meters away was another identical building, and another a few hundred meters away from that building in turn, endless widely spaced buildings all the way to the horizon in a pair of rows flanking a straight concrete road. The surrounding fields of crops were filled with a cunning maze of tall razor wire fences, widely spaced enough for mechanised combine harvesters to meander through the maze, but forcing pedestrians on foot into the firing arcs of waiting gun turreted kill zones.

Down on the neat concrete highway, military operated cargo trucks hummed along the road, electric motors powered by short running flywheels, to force constant "spin up" stops every few miles at heavily militarised "spin up stations" that doubled as military checkpoints. Hijacking a truck would not get you more than a few miles on Wsuioo, and the spin up stations would shoot anyone without perfectly verified authorisation to be there.

The logistics only functioned without slowing to a crawl because logistics ran all hours of the day, and because the spin up stations were big enough to spin up a lot of trucks very quickly all at the same time.

On the back of one of these trucks, the huge oxygenated pressurised trailer was rocking about violently, with loud thumping sounds sounding from the sturdy metal walls.

"Are we dare yet!?" Bellowed the voices of a group of ogryns.

"For the hundredth time NO!" The soldier driving the truck shouted back at his truculent cargo.

Damn ogryns!

"We're hungry boss!" The ogryns bellowed back.

"You will be fed faster if you keep still and quiet!" The soldier shouted back.

The ogryns seemed to understand his words, and tried to keep still and silent, but lasted all of about a minute before they were back to thumping the walls and bellowing.

The soldier sighed deeply in his air mask, and tried to ignore it as his truck slightly rocked about on the road from the ogryns shoulder barging the walls of the trailer.

The soldier pulled into yet another spin up station to replenish the flywheels, as the ogryns ran amok inside the trailer. The military police of the spin up station immediately noticed the racket and ran to investigate the truck, weapons trained on the drivers seat.

"I am XY1, S5 line driver model pedigree. Here are my papers." The soldier said automatically.

"Are we dare yet!?" ogryn voices bellowed from the trailer.

"Ogryns huh?" One of the military police asked.

"Yes sir, they are driving me crazy!" The soldier admitted.

"Watch your tone S5, I am NOT your friend. This is your first warning," the military police officer snapped sternly.

"Sir yes sir sorry sir," the soldier said fearfully, knowing that a second offence would be punished by torture.

Sinister military police forces quickly inspected every part of the vehicle with scanners, and scanned all the paperwork. Superiors were radioed to confirm that they had indeed given authorisation to the truck, and within minutes of arriving, the truck was spun up and back on its way.

The truck drove barely 10 miles before it had to stop at the next spin up station, and the damn ogryns attracted unwanted military police attention all over again!

The ogryns were absolutely incessant the entire journey, thumping the walls and making a terrible racket! The soldier didn't need this shit, he just wanted to drive his truck in peace!

These damn ogryns were another genetically engineered line of product from the sinister genetic engineers of the Wsuioo slave breeding farms. They were of the standard O1 line "harem guard" model, a genetically engineered pedigree of "domesticated" ogryn designed to protect the highly valuable female human slaves from being abducted by thieves like the damn Night Lords that raided Wsuioo at least once every year.

The O1 line might have been designed to protect slaves from being stolen, but the genetic engineers clearly hadn't thought it necessary to give them a behavioural program to overcome the national ogryn abhorrence of being confined in a moving vehicle!

The way these ogryns worked was simple and effective. These ogryns were all females, genetically engineered to be strictly lesbians and programmed to be sexually attracted to normal human women rather than ogryns. The ogryns had a strong instinct to round up any human women they found into "harems" under the ogryns watchful protection, and went berserk if anyone except a purebred Wsuian man went anywhere near their harem.

The female slaves were less than thrilled to have lesbian ogryns forcibly have sex with them, but no one cared if the slaves liked it or not. What did matter was that a O1 line harem guard ogryn was very VERY good at ripping apart chaos space marines in a berserk frenzy, and had a proven track record of reducing the number of slaves stolen each time the Night Lords raided the planet.

This group of ogryns in the truck were fresh from the slave breeding farms, having just reached full physical size. The soldier had been driving them for 14 hours now, and was absolutely sick to death of them!

***...

"Fife" slammed her huge meaty shoulder against the wall yet again, she wanted OUT!

"Sis" tried with her, and together they made the trailer rock. This gave Fife an idea in her dim brain.

"All ya, slam same time!" Fife told the other 9 ogryns excitedly.

"Da, ok," an ogryn named "fee" agreed dumbly.

With a bit of encouragement Fife managed to get the entire group to join in, and together the 10 massive ogryns shoulder slammed the right wall of the trailer.

The entire truck lurched terribly, which Fife took as a good sign.

"What the fuck are you doing!" the muffled voice of the boss driver bellowed through the metal wall.

The ogryns tried again, and the truck lurched violently. The ogryns started to laugh, finding this action to be strangely fun, and they kept slamming into the wall.

"We're going to crash if you don't stop!" The boss yelled.

The ogryns were having far to much fun, and with an especially hard slam they succeeded in flipping over the truck on its side.

"Fucking ogryns!" The boss screamed.

"Are we dare yet?" Fife asked hopefully.

"Fuck! I'm going to be shot for this!" The boss lamented.

"I'm hungry boss," Sis complained.

The ogryns heard the boss driver weeping in terror for the next few minutes as the sirens of military police vehicles got closer.

"PLEASE! The ogryns flipped the truck! It wasn't me! Please don't shoot!" the voice of the boss driver could be heard pleading a few minutes later.

Fife listened in interest as the sounds of gunfire sounded. The boss driver was completely quiet after that, but Fife was too stupid to understand what had just happened.

"I'm hungry boss," Fee called out.

The boss didn't reply.

The ogryns got bored and resumed shoulder barging the side of the trailer, but it didn't wobble as much down on its side like this.

The sounds of some sort of crane could eventually be heard, and the truck tipped the right way up. The ogryns laughed and immediately flipped it back over...

A LONG time later, after several people were sentenced to torture for incompetence, the truckload of ogryns finally arrived at their destination.

The rear door to the trailer swung open, and the ogryns charged out of the confined space in a mad frenzy, knocking over several bosses in the process.


	7. Chapter 7

The amazing adventures of Chappie the pet Tyranid Zoanthrope.

Chapter 1(Chap)

Very few beings are crazy enough to try to keep a Tyranid Zoanthrope as a family pet, and fewer still survive the ill advised endeavour. They are dangerous, ill tempered, greedy, lazy, amoral and vicious creatures, and that's just on a good day.

One such person who is both crazy enough and has the means to acquire such a creature is the Gamma level Tzeentch sorceress TigerLily Sevenson, the consort of a Night Lords chaos lord.

For the sake of chronology, this story is set immediately after "Sisters in Slavery", as the chronicles of TigerLily are extremely long and the subject of multiple other books. This book is solely about TigerLily's pet Zoanthrope, from it's own point of view. Enjoy.

***...

Chappie was extremely irritated as he tried yet again to reconnect to the hive mind, something was wrong...

"Stop trying to connect to the hive mind Chappie, you are wasting your time. The brain surgeons removed those bits of your brain, connection to the hive mind is now impossible for you," the psychic voice of his "owner" tutted in his mind.

Chappie hissed angrily and just kept trying to connect, he didn't like this. This was all so wrong...

"Try all you like, you are just wasting your time," the voice said.

Chappie tried to obliterate the speaker with a blast of psychic power out of annoyance, but the thought was blocked by something before it could become actions. Something was wrong...

"Stop trying to kill me Chappie, the surgeons put bionic behavioural inhibitors in your brain. You are now incapable of harming any non-microscopic living thing." The irritating voice chided him.

Chappie experimentally tried blasting a random wall. The warp flowed through him effortlessly and a huge hole melted into the metal wall, causing a raging fire in the room. Chappie then aimed at the head of the creature irritating him and tried the same thing, but once again the action was blocked. Something was wrong...


	8. Chapter 8

Dickhead Crypteks

Chapter 1(DC)

Governor-Militant Montgomery Steele of the Imperium of Man stood stoically in the forest clearing between the two front lines, under a flag of truce.

Across from him stood Necron Lord "Ramses the Reasonable", with a small retinue of Necron attendants, all silent and still.

"What are your terms of peace?" Governor-Militant Steele asked sternly but politely, getting straight to the point.

The Necron Lord looked at him with green robotic eyes, pausing before he spoke. Millions of lives rested on what was said at this meeting of these two great leaders, and the Necron Lord seemed to be deciding his opening words with great care. Governor-Militant Steele tensed, awaiting the words of this xenos robot.

Necron Lord Ramses the Reasonable seemed about to speak, and from his robotic mouth came... a fart noise!

Ramses the Reasonable clapped a metal hand over his mouth in shock for a second, and then tried again.

More fart noises protruded from the speakers in Ramses mouth, extremely loud and rude sounding farts!


	9. Chapter 9

The Goat Guarders of the World's Edge Mountains.

Chapter 1(GH)

Yori the human took careful aim with his crossbow as best as he could with one hand hanging onto the cliffside. Below him was a dizzying drop down a steep rocky mountainside, with the valley floor so far below that it was like a distant world far away.

Yori lined up his target and squeezed the trigger, and with a meaty "thunk", the wooden crossbow bolt imbedded itself in the shoulder of a climbing stone troll threatening the herd of goats.

The troll grunted stupidly, and tried to pull out the bolt with one hand. The troll's remaining hand was not well placed to keep a good grip, and a second bolt from another human thunked into the back of the hand, causing the troll to draw back his hand from the cliffside stupidly.

With both hands no longer holding onto the cliff face, the troll tumbled down the dizzying slope like a rag doll. Yori watched it bounce all the way down, the stone troll's body picked up speed as it tumbled down, and was soon ripped to pieces against the slope of the jagged cliff.

The broken heap of troll remains finally impaled itself on a jutting rock halfway down the cliffside, more than a mile below Yori's current position.

Yori returned his attention to watching the surrounding cliffside and skies for any threat to the large herd of goats.


	10. Chapter 10

The Skaven of Araby

Chapter 1(Skaven)

Deep in the hottest and most desolate desert in Araby, in the baked sand flats so dry where not even the scorpions and lizards dared to live, a bizarre sight took place. Tens of thousands of chained skaven slaves with brightly polished glass mirrors on adjustable stands congregated thickly over a vast area, stretching all around an insanely tall ramshackle tower.

The sun was just rising up over the horizon in early dawn, and the vast army of skaven slaves tracked the rising sun with their mirrors with the aid of complex devices and complex mathematical formulas on chalk slates. Tens of thousands of large mirrors on the stands angled perfectly, reflecting their combined light up at the strange tower.

The top of the tower was covered in mirrored funnel openings, and the light surged into these funnels, reflected off mirrored surfaces and down down DOWN, down the hollow mirror lined interior of the tower, down a deep mirrored shaft for almost an entire mile in a vast bright beam of intense concentrated light.

The bouncing beam of light met a series of glass focusing lenses near the bottom of the shaft, making a cohesive laser beam of terrible power. The beam then bounced off a crazy maze of mirrors in a circuit of light, channelled and redirected by mirrors at the flick of switches by warlock engineers who controlled the device.

Down in the control room for the laser, warlord Veek of clan Cavengnaw stood in wonder beside chief warlock engineer Gnawscab of clan Skryre the brainchild of this laser contraption.

"Warlord Veek, as you can see-smell, the heliostat laser is working-ready and hot-bright to power your lead smelting forges and industries. The bargain-price you paid to clan Skryre is very good-nice yes-yes?," warlock engineer Gnawscab boasted proudly.

Warlord Veek nodded enthusiastically and excitedly asked for a demonstration.

At a gesture from Gnawscab a gaggle of warlock engineers fiddled with switches and the laser beam was let out of its containment circuit and directed into a series of gigantic forges full of lead ore. The light and heat was incredible, and in seconds the smelting forges were red hot and full of molten lead!

Warlord Veek clapped his paws excitedly, this new device was heating up the forges thousands of times faster than expensive coal burning, using completely FREE sunlight! The production output would be increased thousands of times and far cheaper!

Warlord Veek rubbed his paws together greedily as he imagined all the profits his Clan Cavengnaw would make from this wonderful device.

Clan Cavengnaw controlled an extremely large lead mine deep below the harshest desert of Araby, more lead than they could mine in ten thousand lifetimes but unfortunately very low grade ore that required a lot of expensive smelting before export to make a profit. For generations Clan Cavengnaw had been building a small but steady income from exporting the lead to the under empire, and now after a modest Clan Skryre investment they were now FINALLY ready to make a serious profit for a change.

Lasers were directed not only to smelters but also split into multiple beams and sent all over the huge subterranean burrow to power steam engines and other industries. This would revolutionise their entire operation and finally give Warlord Veek the wealth he truly deserved to take his rightful place as undisputed ruler of the entire universe.

For hours the sun beat down on the carefully angled mirrors, powering industry on an unimaginable scale deep underground. Profits greater than anything Clan Cavengnaw had ever seen flowed out of the smelters and industries, and steam powered mining engines ripped out the ore faster than the picks and shovels of slaves ever could.

Completed lead ingots and manufactured lead products flowed onto the barges docked at a deep underground river, and warp tokens flowed into the coffers of Clan Cavengnaw thousands of times faster than usual. After huge investment and sacrifice the Clan was now a well deserved success story of skaven industrial ingenuity.

The laser beam then suddenly disappeared without warning...

Was it night time already?

Warlord Veek checked his pocket watch, the time was not even midday yet! The device had failed!

"Explain-explain!" Warlord Veek demanded of warlock engineer Gnawscab.

"I go check-see the surface-sky", warlock engineer Gnawscab whined.

"I come-visit too-too!" Warlord Veek snarled.

The pair entered into an elevator cage and pulled a switch to rise up to the surface at insanely breakneck speed. In the space of a few minutes they had risen almost a mile, and exited the cage in a tunnel just below the surface.

The pair ran out a tunnel and up into the outside.

No sooner were they outside when they were met with pelting heavy rain and a dark cloudy sky! In the middle of the driest part of ARABY!

What in the Horned Rat's name was going on?!

***...

Achmed Bin Laden the Arabian sorcerer spoke the words of power as he channeled vast quantities of Jade magic into the spell that would gradually water the entire continent of Araby. All around Achmed were awestruck men and camels, gazing in wonder as this driest desert was pelted with heavy rain.

Achmed was standing in front of an entire wagon full of preprepared power stones he had painstakingly made weeks ago in preparation for this spell. Generating rain on this scale from horizon to horizon was impossible without power stones, the Jade winds blew very weakly out here in the desert.

As well as the ludicrous amount of power stones, the ritual also relied on a vast array of magical items to do most of the casting and containment for him, as wielding so much power manually was impossible for mortals. It had taken days of rituals to even cast the spell, and now that it was done Achmed was exhausted.

Achmed finished the last ritual and retired out of the rain into his tent. The magical items would keep the spell going for as long as the power stones lasted, a few days at least, and Achmed was no longer needed for the process.

Achmed darted out of the heavily pelting rain into his tent, and found prince Hussain waiting for him inside, eating dates as servants fanned him.

"Your majesty," Achmed said respectfully, bowing down before the young man.

"Rise my friend, rise. You have certainly proved your spell works in this driest of deserts. My father will shower you with gold if you turn the whole of Araby into a lush paradise with your rain magic!" Prince Hussain said cheerfully.

Achmed rose and smiled.

"Thank you prince Hussain. I regret that I must sleep now before sleep takes me by force. I have been casting spells for days without rest." Achmed apologised and lay down on his floor mat to sleep without another thought.

He was asleep as soon as he hit the floor.

***...

The skaven were frightfully upset as the rain continued


	11. Chapter 11

The Night Lords and the Daleks

By: MA7

Tzeentch was mad. Not mad as in angry. Not mad as in a little bit quirky. Mad as in absolutely out of his fucking mind. Completely and totally batshit. He was the sort of person who would burn down his own house for fun even while he was inside it. The sort of lunatic who would stab himself in the eyeball on a whim. Just a complete and total maniac!

Everyone told him he was mad, he was famous for it. His 3 brothers especially said that he was the greatest lunatic in the entire universe.

He was not the harmless kind of mentally ill person either, Tzeentch was the most dangerous kind of madman, the insane genius kind. Tzeentch was the sort of lunatic who was smart enough to build a bomb to blow up the world and crazy enough to detonate it whilst sitting on top of said bomb. He was THAT sort of mad.

Tzeentch was the LAST person who should ever be in a position of power. But unfortunately for the multiverse he inhabited, Tzeentch was a GOD!

Not just thought himself a god the way that most lunatics do, but an ACTUAL god ruling an ACTUAL multiverse complete with all the powers that his divinity granted him!

Tzeentch could kill a billion innocent people just for fun on a whim, and he did. Tzeentch could cause human mothers to give birth to giant spiders just to hear them scream and he did. Tzeentch could order even his own worshippers to kill each other for no sane reason at all and he did!

Whether blowing up stars and planets, starting wars that killed trillions, turning thriving civilisations into utter anarchy, or just causing people to fart at inappropriate moments, Tzeentch could do it all!

At least he could if it wasn't for his 3 blasted brother gods!

Tzeetch's brothers were forever interfering with his fun! Forever calling him mad and putting a stop to his antics! If Tzeentch was more mentally balanced then he would hate his brothers, but he was far too mad even for that! Tzeentch was entirely unpredictable, in fact he was SO unpredictable that the only predictable thing about him was that he would not be predictable!

Nurgle of course was the worst of his brothers, the responsible one. He even had a wife of all things! Just a boring stagnant sensible god of the sick and despairing! Nurgle consistently opposed Tzeentch's mad antics, wanting the mortals to live peaceful lives, lives of contentment! Every time Tzeentch tried to drive a planetary population to madness and anarchy, blasted Nurgle would step in to calm everyone down and dash the mad hopes!

Khorne was little better, a macho, beligerant, angry war god, with foolish ideas about honour and fighting fairly. Khorne was forever beating up Tzeentch for violating every ideal that Khorne believed in, completely on a whim, without even having a REASON to fight dirty or dishonourably! At least on occasion Khorne and Tzeentch worked together, after all Khorne was a god of war and Tzeentch stirred up war and chaos everywhere he went!

Slaanesh at least was different from the other two! Slaanesh was the pervert, the kinky one, the irresponsible one. In his own way Slaanesh was mad too, mad with lust! Slaanesh was the lust god and desired nothing more than to turn the entire universe into a wild orgy where absolutely anything goes, with no act too vile or evil, nothing taboo or illegal, just complete lust fuelled madness! Of all of his brothers, Tzeentch had the most reason to form an alliance with Slaanesh, but as always, Tzeentch was just too fucking mad even to further his own interests! Slaanesh was (usually) willing to work together with Tzeentch, but Tzeentch would inevitably betray Slaanesh just for the fun of it!

Tzeentch was the god of hope. Not hope as in the nice kind of hope, hope as in the MAD kind of hope! In 20th century earth the Nazis HOPED to conquer the world, and their leader HOPED to exterminate an entire race of people! Throughout history political fringe lunatics and extremists HOPE to change all sorts of things in crazy insane ways! Every serial killer, suicide bomber, rebel extremist, religious nutter, anarchist, arsonist and every throthing madman in a lunatic asylum, all of these people FEVERISHLY HOPE. Tzeentch was the god of THIS sort of hope. He fully embodied irresponsible mad change, change for the sake of change, change for no reason at all, utter unpredictable madness!

Tzeentch was an insane genius, an eternal schemer, forever planning convoluted plans and forever changing these convoluted plans. Tzeentch was not quite omniscient, but he was certainly close. He is for instance perfectly aware of you reading this sentence and is thinking up a convoluted way of ruining your life!

Like all "proper" gods, Tzeentch was omnipresent or at least close enough. He was at this very moment spread out in an extremely large area of a large number of different dimensions in his multiverse. Tzeentch's multiverse that he shared with his brothers was a hilarious place!

The mortals were wailing in abject misery as he inflicted his mad whims on them! It was so funny! He laughed with mad joy as a starving widow ate her own children in desperation! He danced with joy as a species of green skinned sentient amphibians engaged in ethnic cleansing! Ethnic cleansing always entertained Tzeentch, it was just so funny to him!

Quick as lightning Tzeentch decided that his material universe didn't have enough ethnic cleansing, he wanted MORE! If Tzeentch was capable of feeling disappointed then he would be feeling it right now... His universe was already engaged in galaxy spanning xenophobic race wars! Right at this very moment about a trillion sentient life forms were being killed every second in pointless xenophobia!

Tzeentch put a small but significant fraction of his godly intellect to the problem of making even more highly entertaining xenophobia happen in his universe. A nanosecond later he had the answer and subtly caused an extremely unlikely macro scale quantum fluctuation to occur in the substance that separates distant multiverse clusters. Tzeentch then enjoyed the show.

The Dalek battle cruiser commander was angry, but this was not at all unusual. He was ALWAYS angry! As long as so much as a single microbe of non-Dalek life existed in any and all universes, the Dalek would be absolutely FURIOUS!

Filthy! Inferior! VERMIN! They MUST be EXTERMINATED! Annihilated! EXTERMINATE EXTERMINATE EXTERMINATE! DIE INFERIORS! ALL OF THEM MUST DIE!

Around the Dalek battle cruiser Commander were his crew of Dalek subordinates, all of them equally angry about the mere existence of all other life forms. The Daleks alone were pure, they alone were SUPERIOR!

Angrily the Daleks performed their various duties, the battle cruiser was preparing for a standard space time jump as part of the latest strategy to defeat the hated Movellan battle fleet.

The Dalek-Movellan war had been going on for centuries, and so far not a single shot had been fired in that entire time! It was infuriating!

Every time the Dalek fleet attempted a strategy, it was instantly anticipated and countered by the Movellans. The Daleks would then pull their ships back to avoid a trap and the Movellans would attempt a strategy of their own. The Daleks would instantly anticipate the Movellans strategy, set a trap for them and the Movellans would pull back.

This move and counter move had been going on for centuries! It was a logical impasse!

The Daleks didn't care! The Daleks would NEVER back down from inferiors! The Daleks would fight until the end of time!

The Dalek battle cruiser commander ordered, "engage space time jump!"

"I obey", said the Daleks at the control panel.

The battle cruiser was superior Dalek technology, the best in the universe! It performed flawlessly every time. The battle cruiser engaged it's drive and vanished from space.

The Dalek battle cruiser Commander waited angrily for the ship to arrive at it's target and annihilate the hated Movellans.

Suddenly alarms shrieked throughout the bridge and the Commander angrily asked, "what is happening? EXPLAIN!"

"Time vortex macro quantum fluctuations. We are trapped in a vortex corridor." Replied the temporal navigation Dalek.

"HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE!" Screamed the Dalek battle cruiser Commander.

"It is artificial in origin, deliberately targeting us", explained the temporal navigation Dalek.

The Dalek battle cruiser Commander raged. This must be the work of the Movellans! He trembled with rage inside his Mark III travel machine!

The Daleks were even more angry than usual when they were finally able to reenter normal space time.

"WHERE ARE WE?" Shouted the Dalek battle cruiser Commander at the Dalek navigator

"Unknown" answered the navigator

This answer did not help the already bad temper of the Dalek Commander and he angrily shouted for the navigator to find out!

This was interfering with the Dalek plans! How could they follow their orders if plans failed! We are superior! We cannot fail! Our plans cannot fail! If our plans fail then we fail! WE CANNOT FAIL!

The Dalek Commander quickly got lost in a screaming fit of rage! The Dalek psychology did not cope well with frustration or failure, only inferior beings needed psychologies equipped to deal with things not going to plan! Dalek plans were perfect and superior and could not fail! But the plan HAD failed!

This chain of thoughts formed a vicious cycle, making the Dalek commander more and more irritated until he was screaming with rage! He was considering shooting at the walls just to vent his hatred when the navigator Dalek turned to face him.

"We are in an uncharted parallel multiverse. The star systems are similar to our own universe. Temporal location unknown, position the same as last point in our universe", the navigator Dalek reported.

The Dalek Commander moved to the navigator station and downloaded the entire data stack and rapidly read it. He then screamed with rage!

They were trapped inside this universe! Forever cut off from the Dalek race! The Dalek Commander disseminated this data to the rest of the Dalek crew and they also shouted with rage!

For a long time the battle cruiser was filled with raging Daleks rolling through the ship at random having a hissy fit of frustrated hatred! None of them were what humans would call mentally balanced. Every Dalek secretly felt inadequate with a crippling inferiority complex. And every Dalek compensated for this by having an even bigger SUPERIORITY complex!

The Dalek believed that they wanted to exterminate all other life because all other life was inferior. In actual fact it was more accurate to say that because every Dalek FELT inferior, they wanted to exterminate all other life so that nothing else could EVER be superior to them! It was absolutely pathetic.

Every Dalek was a pathetic little creature, encased forever in a metal box, raging against the universe outside to make himself feel better about his own pathetic self.

After a while the Dalek Commander composed himself and thought about the situation. They couldn't fulfil their orders to destroy the Movellans, that was true. But they COULD fall back to the core Dalek protocol of exterminating all non-Dalek life in existence!

The Dalek Commander shouted into the ship's PA system to the crew, "We are the DALEKS! We are the rulers of all existence! This universe has never known the Dalek race, this universe has yet to be exterminated! We are the Daleks! We are the rulers of this universe! We will exterminate all inferiors in this universe! We will reign supreme! We must exterminate and destroy all life in the universe!"

The ship rang out with encouraged Daleks chanting "WE ARE THE DALEKS" and "WE WILL BE THE RULERS OF THE UNIVERSE!" Most of all the Daleks were chanting their battle cry of "EXTERMINATE!"

The Daleks marched through the ship shouting chants. Every time Daleks encountered each other they shouted propaganda at each other and joined together. Soon all Daleks on board had rallied together in a massive patriotic gathering, encouraging each other that they were superior and feeding each other's out of control egos.

These sorts of mass gatherings were the closest a Dalek ever got to feeling truly happy, a time when they had a shouting mass of fellow Daleks making them feel that they were indeed superior.

While this collective Dalek lunacy was going on the small Chaos Space Marine fleet looked at the Unknown battle cruiser anxiously. It had very suddenly appeared out of nowhere and had just sat there ever since.

Chaos Lord Luke Sevenson of a small Night Lord's warband looked at the strange ship. It was obviously not an imperial design.

Luke looked at his pet gamma level psyker, TigerLily Smith, and asked, "who are they?"

A seductive female psychic voice spoke in his mind and answered, "They are xenos my beloved, I am not familiar with their species"

"What are their intentions?" Luke asked curiously.

"Hard to say, they currently appear to be moving around their ship at random having a collective hissy fit. I don't know, they are xenos, maybe this is just how they normally behave. At any rate they are extremely heavily armed and I would recommend keeping our distance from them." TigerLily purred into his mind.

"Shit, they are going to slow down the operation", Luke said angrily.

Luke ordered his fleet to keep well clear of the xenos vessel and the fleet then returned to their slaving mission.

Luke Sevenson was currently sitting on the command throne of his personal flagship, a captured Dauntless class light cruiser renamed the "Orphan Blender". Flanking the Orphan Blender were two Hellbringer class light cruisers, "the Mandy" and the "Touch of Slavery".

Right at this very moment these three ships were in the process of capturing slaves from a small Imperial world, a mining and farming colony on a habitable moon of a gas giant. Drop ships and shuttles were right at this moment touching down on the planet and disgorging small armies of heavily armed chaos militia soldiers to gather slaves.

Things had been going really well when this fucking alien battle cruiser just suddenly appeared out of nowhere! The chaos fleet had just about shitted themselves in shock!

So far this xenos vessel had not done anything at all so the chaos fleet did nothing to provoke it out of it's inaction. Hopefully it would remain inactive until the operation was complete.

Luke looked at the continual inactivity of the battle cruiser and relaxed slightly. Maybe just another race of eccentric alien weirdos.

The galaxy was a big and largely uncharted place, and huge areas of it were littered with tiny little alien civilisations. Some were hostile, a few were friendly, and others... Well others were just weird.

There were some complete and total nutters out there, like the species whose entire culture centred around eating each other's poo! Or there were the weirdo species that had no concept of personal space! By chaos, they were awkward to have diplomatic relations with, always right in your face!

He was certainly not letting his guard down but he was able to relax.

30 minutes later the first of the shuttles and landers were returning heavily laden with slaves when TigerLily urgently got his attention.

"They are starting to rally out of their hissy fit, they are displaying very powerful emotions. Wait, yes as I feared, they are hostile! Yes there is a lot of rage in their minds!" TigerLily told him.

"What are they thinking?" Luke asked urgently

"I don't know their language. I can certainly hear what they are thinking but it is not in a language I understand. The only thing I can read with some certainty is their emotions and they are full of hate and rage", she replied.

"Fuck! Bridge crew, call everyone back! We are getting the fuck out of here!" Luke shouted.

The bridge crew rushed to the Vox channels and ordered an immediate recall of all ground forces.

"Inferior life forms in sensor range! Commander 3 space craft are in orbit of the 5th moon of the nearby gas giant!" Shouted the Dalek bridge crew member

"Scan them!" The Dalek Commander ordered.

"I obey", replied the Dalek who had spoken.

"Hacking inferior computer system! Hacking successful! Downloading system database... Download complete! Running translation!" Shouted the Dalek triumphantly.

The Dalek Commander wirelessly connected to the Dalek battle cruiser computer core and downloaded the entire data package.

He was a genius, superior, with a mind befitting his superiority. His superior Dalek mind easily processed the crude information. Thinking faster than the average super computer, the Dalek assimilated the language and information of the inferior life forms!

The Dalek Commander opened a communications channel directly to the bridge of the command ship and screamed through the video feed.

"Inferior life form leader Luke Sevenson, we are the Daleks! We are the rulers of the universe! You and all other inferior creatures will be exterminated!"

The inferior leader looked at the equally inferior psychic TigerLily and then looked back at the Dalek and said, "oh great and terrible Dalek, you are indeed magnificent. You are superior to us in every way! We are so inferior! We are not even worth the ammunition of exterminating!"

The Dalek Commander flushed with satisfaction at these words and paused. He enjoyed being told that the Daleks were superior, all Daleks enjoyed the grovelling worship of inferiors.

The inferior Luke spoke again, "You are the rulers of the universe, you are so mighty and so pure! You are the supreme beings, all hail the lords of the universe!"

The Dalek flushed with pleasure, his ego fed. Around the bridge the other Daleks murmured happily. It really was nice to be acknowledged!

The Dalek battle computer in the core of the battle cruiser flashed a warning: "he is stalling for time, attack immediately".

The Dalek Commander came to his senses and said, "you will be exterminated at once!"

He then cut off the communications feed and ordered an immediate attack.

Luke Sevenson laughed and thought at TigerLily, "wow you were right! These guys are fucking morons! It's a pity I couldn't buy more time."

TigerLily psychically chuckled in his mind.

The entire time he had been talking to the Dalek, TigerLily had been reading the creatures emotions and telling him what to say telepathically. The Dalek captain was a mass of insecurities with an ego the size of a planet TigerLily had told him.

"You bought us an extra minute at least. Every minute we buy lets more shuttles return." TigerLily reassured him.

The Dalek ship was hurtling towards them at astonishing speed, it's engine power was incredible! No human technology could match the power output readings of those engines, not even back during the fabled human dark age of technology before so much knowledge was lost!

The Dalek ship was still massively out of weapons range and would be impossible to hit accurately from this range even if they had such long range weaponry. To Luke's complete shock the Dalek battle cruiser was firing it's weapons!

A salvo of deadly energy beams hit the Hellbringer class cruiser Touch of Slavery with absolute accuracy even at this range and it visibly caught fire, with massive tongues of flame streaming out of the molten hull breaches!

"Fuck this! Jump to warp!" Luke commanded the fleet.

The remaining shuttles frantically raced to the hangars as warp rifts appeared in front of the 3 chaos ships!

For 30 anxious seconds they waited for the warp rifts to open, and the Touch of Slavery teleported all important people on board over to the Orphan Blender. The Touch of Slavery was taking sustained fire from the Daleks and was rapidly losing structural integrity as it was reduced to molten slag!

Just before the warp rifts opened, the Touch of Slavery was already devoid of all life on board by the heat! The warp rifts opened and the three ships escaped gratefully to the parallel dimension of warp space.

The Orphan Blender harnessed the now sterilised remains of the Touch of Slavery with a magnetic harpoon and the tiny fleet limped it's way back to their home fleet at Beta Kappa Rwanda 5.

They were lucky to be alive!

The Daleks watched irritatedly as the cowards fled into a parallel dimension rather than face them. They were not surprised that the inferior life forms had fled but it was still irritating.

At present the Dalek battle cruiser was not equipped to enter the parallel universe the humans called "the Warp", and this fact also pissed the Daleks off. The Warp did not follow conventional laws of physics and would rip them apart unless they constructed something the humans called a "Gellar Field".

If the battle cruiser had been closer they would have shot the enemy flagship first, but at this extreme range they could not be sure of hitting it given the way it was angled towards them so that only it's small prow was facing them! The "Touch of Slavery" had been the easiest to hit so had been the most logical target.

The Daleks instead turned their attention to the inhabited moon of the gas giant. It was teeming with inferior life and had to be sterilised!

Shouting "EXTERMINATE!" The Daleks fired dense neutron beams at the moon's atmosphere, making the gasses radioactively unstable. They fired nonstop, sweeping the beam across as much of the atmosphere as possible. Within minutes the atmosphere was completely unbreathable and heavily radioactive!

The Daleks screamed in xenophobic triumph as the sensors showed 99.998 percent of life on the surface of the moon was dead! But they weren't done yet! As long as a single microbe remained they still had a job to do!

With shouts of "EXTERMINATE" the Daleks focused their attention on the oceans and rock strata, as well as on the shuttles that hadn't made it back to the human ships. Within hours the moon was a completely sterile radioactive rock, as it should be.


	12. Chapter 12

The Plague Zombie Chronicles

Chapter 1

On board the Night Lords Strike Cruiser "Crucible of Starvation" the flies buzzed in an endless drone and maggots crawled over the walls and floors in a wiggling white carpet. The floors of every public walkway and corridor on the ship were choked with tall piles of hideously mutilated corpses, and from the mouths, ears, nostrils and other bodily openings of these cadavers poured forth a wiggling waterfall of live maggots.

To say that the bodies stank was an understatement. The smell was indescribable, it stank worse than a cross between a sewer, a trash dump and a rotten fart. The stink was the smell of not death but of the stage that comes about a week or several AFTER death has occurred.

As if the bodies and the flies and the stench weren't bad enough for the people who unhappily lived on board this ship, Slaaneshi perverts were making it even worse by RAPING the maggoty partially liquified cadavers!

"Ewwwww! Stop it you sick fuck!" Veronica Belle Anderson the slave shouted at a depraved Slaaneshi necrophiliac in the public corridor she was unhappily forced to walk down.

"Drop dead bitch, drop dead and I will make love to you too!" The pervert in question yelled back at Veronica, making her shudder violently with uncontrollable nausea at the very thought.

Veronica fled as fast as she could run, vomit pouring out of her mouth as she fled for dear life through the piles of bodies and maggots. She fled past enthusiastic crowds of Slaanesh worshipping "lost and the damned" engaged in sickening acts with the dead, fled past equally sick cannibals who were scooping up handfuls of maggots and liquified rotten meat into their mouths, fled for dear sanity towards home.

The flies filled her eyes and nostrils as she ran, blinding her and causing her to barrel into piles of cadavers and the sickos doing things to them. The drone of flies was deafening, she couldn't see, and all around her was horror and depravity! In her panic she accidentally swallowed several hairy black flies and their buzzing and crawling in her stomach and throat made her projectile vomit in horrified nausea!

Heart pounding and lungs choking on the flies, Veronica hurled herself through the door of her home and slammed the door shut behind herself, shrieking incoherently with fear and nausea.

"Where is the bottle of milk I sent you out to get for me?" asked an imperious female voice.

Veronica groaned and pleaded, "PLEASE Owner Gemma, please don't make me go back out there!"

"No way slave! I want milk and I am not going out there to get it myself! Get out of the door and get me the milk before I flog you!" Owner Gemma demanded heartlessly.

Veronica sighed wretchedly and steeled herself to return to the nightmare outside.

Screaming with mental effort Veronica ran out the door and bolted down the nightmarish corridor towards the local vendor who sold milk. To her horror she found that the nearest vendor was out of milk and was forced to go back out into the hellishness of the corridor yet again to find a vendor who still had some milk!

Veronica had to try 5 vendors before she got lucky and then had to wait in a long line behind a smelly naked Slaaneshi necro-slut who was enthusiastically inserting dead body parts into intimate areas of her own anatomy as she waited in line! The mere sight of this unholy act made Veronica's empty stomach try to projectile vomit yet again, but she had nothing left to puke up.

Veronica was almost exhausted from repeatedly trying to vomit by the time she got back to the home of her Owner with the damn milk, and feeling utterly sorry for herself. Veronica had not asked to be abducted and enslaved by the Night Lords, she had not asked to be forced to live on this disgusting and depraved ship. She most DEFINITELY had not asked to be the slave of the narcissistic spoilt psycho Gemma Sevenson.

Veronica was a very beautiful young woman, you had to be beautiful as a slave if you wanted to avoid joining the piles of dead in the corridors! Veronica was a curvy, busty and voluptuous woman with a highly erotic body, pale white skinned and with long luscious hair that was on that borderline between blonde and brunette in colour.

It was Veronica's beauty alone that had saved her from becoming maggot food. All of those maggoty cadavers in the walkways and corridors belonged to enslaved prisoners who had been deemed not beautiful enough for the continued privilege of remaining alive onboard this Slaanesh worshipping ship. The highly skilled prisoners of course got a lot more leeway in how beautiful they had to be to live, but very few people were that highly skilled in the imperial planets the Night Lords raided for slaves, so most simply became maggot food and the playthings of necrophiliacs.


	13. Chapter 13

The adventures of Octavia the chaos tickling slave.

(A shameless tickling fetish lemon.)

Deep down in the grim interior of the Night Lords chaos strike cruiser "Crucible of Starvation", a pair of women were shrieking with laughter in a Slaaneshi torture chamber.

The two women were absolutely gorgeous, both of them strapped down naked next to each other on padded leather bondage racks with arms stretched above their heads, totally helpless.

On the left table was strapped Octavia Antony the chaos tickling slave. Octavia the slave was an exquisite physical specimen, her flawless pale white skin given the best plastic surgery money could buy to achieve unnatural perfection, with gigantic breasts, a tiny waist, and a sculpted face that would put a super model to shame. Octavia was barely 20, with brown eyes and luscious long brown curly hair all the way to her perfect yummy ass.

On the right table was strapped down Melody Chan the chaos tickling slave. Melody the slave had an entirely natural body, extremely petite and tiny, with small breasts that suited her build and with a naturally beautiful face. Her pale oriental skin was pretty much flawless as it could be without plastic surgery and well cared for. Melody was 19, with dark brown eyes and long straight jet black hair.

Both women were laughing hard as teams of Slaanesh worshipping tickle sadists stroked, poked and squeezed them all over their highly ticklish bodies.

"Please stop!" Melody shrieked, unable as always to stand this.

The sadist responded by blowing a massive wet raspberry on Melody's tummy, making her shriek with desperate laughter.


	14. Chapter 14

(Not technically 40k but grimdark enough to be included here)

Captain Planet practice draft

Just experimenting with the fandom.

Deep in South America, a massive industrial facility was belching out thick black smog from giant smoke stacks, filling the surrounding deforested wasteland with choking clouds.

Through this toxic hellscape, a massive convoy of trucks rumbled, speeding towards the industrial facility.

The rumbling convoy entered into a loading bay entrance, and a garage door clattered down closed over the entrance after the trucks all entered.

Inside the facility, hulking robots opened the rear of the trucks, revealing cowering local people inside.

With electronic whines, huge mechanical arms extended from robotic cranes, reaching into the back of the trucks and plucking out screaming people.

A huge wall monitor flickered to life, and displayed the giant malevolent green head of MAL, the evil artificial intelligence.

"Ah, more MEAT for the grinder, ah ha ha ha!" MAL chuckled evilly.


End file.
